roughly one-third of the whole nation's fac
tory and commercial jobs and two-thirds of
the national bureaucracy.
Plans for decentralizing the population
consistently fail. Why?
"Remember," a wise friend once warned
me, "all of us Mexicans have something to
hide. Maybe a bribe given or taken, or taxes
that we owe. Take my dear old aunt: She
goes to Mass daily but drives her car without
a license. When a policeman stops her, she
says, 'This is your chance for a good deed to
day.' She gets away with it."
City planners conservatively estimate
that half of the city's population lives in ir
regular housing. "Either the title is faulty or
construction does not comply with the
code-somethingis wrong," notes city plan
ning director Javier Caraveo. Although city
records are being computerized, land tenure
is the major problem of urban development
here, according to planners. "No one puts
his best effort into a house if his ownership
is insecure," says director Caraveo. On pub
lic lands, squatters usually get clear title
after five years of "pacific possession in
good faith."
Scientific city planning in Mexico City
dates only from 1980, but the staff of young
architects recruited by Caraveo (their aver
age age is 33 years) are able and eager. In
spite of budget cuts they continue to attack
the city's broad spectrum of problems. Like
water: a problem that varies from annoying
to critical. Since 22 percent of all Mexicans
live here on less than one percent of the land,
much of the water must be brought in from
outside the Valley of Mexico. And since the
city is like a bowl sitting on a tabletop,
pumps must lift the water and waste coming
and going. Furthermore, most rain comes in
summer storms and immediately runs off.
"It's a paradox," notes engineer Cesar
Herrera, "since we need to get rid of rain
water while bringing other water in." The
water costs eight billion pesos (47 million
dollars) a year-70 percent of which is subsi
dized by the government.
Almost no rain falls from November
through April. The city then goes dusty and
yellow with its annual drought. A new ad
ministrator confided to friends in his co
lonia, or borough, "My first official decision
was to murder our park." A dramatic way of
saying that the water shortage had forced
the neighborhood to quit watering the grass.
On a rainy September 9, 1981, the famous
artist Feliciano Bejar faced another sort of
water problem. At dusk he was the only
adult home in his studio compound with ten
children, two of them babies in arms. "I had
lived here for 30 years-since San Angel was
country-with no disasters. But when high
ways and more houses were built-when we
paved-I knew a flood was possible. So I
put special doors on the level below."
Doors weren't enough to hold back the
flood that evening. It arrived-"almost to
my chin"-in a swelling torrent. "I called for
help and a neighbor came, but he was
knocked unconscious and disappeared in
the water," Don Feliciano recalls. Water
was soon seven meters deep in spots. "We
had to swim and hold on to the limbs of
trees," he remembers. But by carrying small
children and helping the older ones, he got
all the household to higher ground.
The Bejar studio, house, and 15,000
volume library were wrecked; some 400
paintings required restoration. "The next
day," the artist recalls, "the mayor came to
see the damage. He told me, 'This is the only
city that puts its rivers into the sewer.'
"I lost material things, but some people
the sick who couldn't move-drowned. All
the damage was due to bad planning. So
sad. And trees are dying in Chapultepec
Park for lack of air and groundwater."
NOT ALL THE TROUBLE is man
made. Earthquakes caused seven sep
arations in the Xochimilco aqueduct
during 1979 alone. Leaks waste water
wantonly, and pipes simply do not last as
long here as in other places. The Cutzamala
River Basin project, underwritten by the
Inter-American Development Bank, should
solve the city's water needs for a time-pro
vided that leaks are kept to a minimum.
But the equations of earth and water have
other ironies. The soil is one part solid to five
parts water, so as pumps remove ground
water, the city sinks as much as ten inches
a year-making deeper drain pipes neces
sary. The sinking, though, is not uniform:
The famous Angel statue, erected on the Pa
seo de la Reforma in 1910, rests on pilings set
deep in solid ground. Buildings and streets
Mexico City: An Alarming Giant
149